


I Still Miss You a Lot

by WickedlyAwesomeMe



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, F/M, OC/OC pairing, One Shot, Original Character(s), Past Draco Malfoy/Hermione Granger, Reincarnation, Rory Jones, Sequel, Tom Blythe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-03-08
Packaged: 2019-03-28 14:35:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13906095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WickedlyAwesomeMe/pseuds/WickedlyAwesomeMe
Summary: “Every day, in my heart, you have stayed. I still miss you a lot.” Rory and Tom had an unexpected visit from someone they knew from their past. Reincarnation Dramione One-Shot. Sequel to “I Still Love You in the Present.”





	I Still Miss You a Lot

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, here's the sequel to "I Still Love You in the Present"! Enjoy :)

It was honestly a dull Monday, and Rory wished to go home. Scowling, she scanned her eyes around her beloved, quaint bookshop and noted how it severely lacked customers she badly needed. Years and years of managing _Otters and Co._ was a challenge, especially now that people seemed to think buying paperbacks was a waste of their money. 

Rory spent most of her days mournfully gazing at her towering bookshelves, silently apologising for their neglect. She feared that the days of her bookstore were already numbered, and she refused to imagine what she would do if she was forced to sell _Otters and Co._

The bell jingled and she perked up, wearing the widest smile she could muster. “Good afternoon!” she greeted. Upon seeing her new customer, however, her smile wavered. “Oh, it’s just you.”

Dr. Tom Blythe lifted an eyebrow, amused at how quickly her expression changed. “What? Aren’t you happy to see me?” he asked, complete with that stupid, stupid smirk that made her heart skip a tad bit. Rory sighed and internally groaned, thinking that after all these years, he still could make her feel that way. 

“Are you done with your duty for the day?” she asked as he approached the counter. 

“Yeah, it was pretty benign,” he said, removing his white coat and slinging it over his arm. His smirk then morphed into a small smile and reached out his hand. “Should we go home now, Mrs. Blythe?” 

Rory lightly blushed at his address, internally groaning once more at his effect on her. Even after being married with him for years, her feelings had not changed. If they did, they actually grew, and Rory thought it was bloody weird, seeing her age. 

“Just let me fix up this bookstore,” she replied. 

Tom looked around the store. “Jonathan isn’t here to help you?” he inquired. 

Rory released an unladylike snort whilst locking the cashier. “Since the start of his thesis, he’d been scarce,” she said, honestly missing her part-timer. “He already gave his resignation letter earlier, but promised to come help if he could.” 

 _“_ Hmm, do you need a replacement?” he asked, absentmindedly grabbing her hand and directing her to the exit. “We can always put up an ad. Maybe we can ask help from Rose.” 

She glumly shook her head and finally locked the bookstore door. “There’s no need,” she said. “I barely have fifty customers a day; I think I can handle the workload. And besides, we can’t bother Rose. It’s her midterms. You know how she gets when we bother her with her studying.” 

Tom rolled his eyes and pulled her closer. “I do wonder where she got that from,” he asked in jest, earning him a light slap on his arm. 

“Hey, between the two of us, you’re the _doctor_ ,” she pointed out. “Aren’t you required to study until the ungodly hours of the day?” 

“Yes, well, I study to save _lives_ ,” he pointed out. “Of course I have to study well. Rose, on the other hand, she’s bloody _ten_. Our daughter seriously needs to go out more often and socialise with people.” 

Rory sighed and tightened her hand around his. “You know how difficult it is for her,” she said, heart painfully clenching at the thought her ten-year-old. “She’s… _different_.” 

Truly she was, because the moment Rose Blythe turned one, she started to show signs of magic. 

It almost gave Rory a heart attack when she arrived at her nursery and saw all of baby Rose’s stuffed toys dancing in the air. Said child was laughing heartily, hands clapping loudly, and Rory did not know what to do. She immediately rushed to the hospital where Tom was working at, pulled him out of an ongoing orthopaedic surgery, and broke the news to him. 

Tom, apparently, wasn’t too surprised with the news. _“I honestly expected this would happen, one way or another,”_ he thought. _“After all, we’re reincarnations of Draco and Hermione. I think the universe thinks it would be a waste if our combined genes won’t produce a magical offspring.”_

Simply put, Rory wasn’t too keen with Rose’s magic and had been apprehensive for years. Although at peace, she didn’t know if subjecting Rose into the Wizarding World would be wise. Flashbacks of Hermione’s adventures, of encountering mountain trolls and riding magical, bony horses came back to her, and as a mother, Rory was completely worried. 

Thankfully, four-year-old Scorpius hadn’t shown any signs of magic yet. Tom warned her not be too complacent, because children normally showed their powers after turning five, even Purebloods. Rose was just a delightful exception. Ever since then, Rory had been praying that the universe would spare her son, but doubted anybody would even listen to her. Draco and Hermione’s magical genes were too powerful for science to even ignore. 

“You worry too much, Rory,” Tom then said, snapping her off from her thoughts. He was wearing a fond smile and brushed her curls away. 

“She’s just like me when I was a child,” she said, almost bordering whiny. She failed to mention she was comparing Rose with Hermione Granger instead of her, Rory Blythe, and how her past life had struggled with making friends before she came into Hogwarts. 

Tom merely sighed, and she knew he completely understood what she meant. “She’s turning eleven soon,” he pointed out. “We should be prepared.” 

“I’m not letting her go,” she firmly replied. “You know how dangerous it is in the Wizarding World.” 

“ _Everywhere_ is dangerous,” he corrected. “You cannot protect her forever, Rory.” 

She resolutely clenched her jaw and looked away. Her daughter was too much like Hermione; headstrong and stubborn, fiery and bossy. It was even deadlier now that she had some traits that were eerily Draco Malfoy’s, and Rory feared her child wouldn’t be a passive student, if ever she attended Hogwarts. 

Hermione and Draco had their childhood robbed at such an early age. Rory Blythe didn’t want that for her daughter. 

“Watch out for some owls,” she told him seriously. “You know how desperate they could get.” 

“Gods, Rory,” he said, the corner of his lips lifting into a smile. “You are such a worrywart. You know how Rose dislikes it when you smother her.” 

She glowered at him. “This is all your fault for spoiling Rose,” she snapped back. “Now, she always thinks I’m the bad, not-fun parent.” 

“You can’t blame me if I’m Rose’s favorite,” he said, smirking proudly at the truth. “Don’t worry. It isn’t too late for you to bribe Scorpius onto your side.” 

“You are such a bad influence in this family,” she complained, although she couldn’t suppress the smile growing on her face. “Until this day, I don’t know why I married you.” 

“Hmm, I think I’m quite sure it’s because you love me,” he offered. 

Although his hair was already turning grey, and there were little wrinkles on his face when she peered at him closely, Rory still honestly thought he was the handsomest guy she had ever met.

“Sadly,” she said with a defeated sigh, “that is the truth.” 

* * *

“It arrived.” 

Tom sighed and looked up from the case reports he was reading. “Rory,” he said with a frown, “what did I tell you about barging into my office without prior appointment?” He expected her to snap at him, tell him that she was entitled to barge in any time because she was already his wife, but upon seeing the crazed look on her face, he grew worried. 

Wordlessly, Rory slapped an enveloped on his table and he paled. The envelope was old-fashioned and he almost rolled his eyes at the wax seal. Nobody used those kinds of things now in this advanced world. But then again, technology never really worked in Hogwarts. 

“Does Rose know?” he asked. He noticed that the seal hadn’t been broken yet, but both he and Rory knew what the contents were anyway. The letter was addressed to their daughter, after all, who had just turned eleven yesterday. 

“No,” she said, “She’s still at school.” 

“Scorpius?” 

“In his pre-school,” she said, plopping down on his seat with a defeated sigh. “Oh, Tom, what are we going to do?” 

He was still conflicted whether the idea that his daughter as a witch was a good one or not. Frankly, he had been thrilled with Rory’s news that Rose had showed some signs of accidental magic. But then, memories of Draco Malfoy and the Second Wizarding War flashed in his mind and had plagued him that night. If a War broke out in the Wizarding World again, he highly doubted that Rose wouldn’t jump into action and join the band of young soldiers to defeat whatever threat there was. She was just too much of a Gryffindor. 

“The owls will keep coming, you know that,” he said. 

“I’ll make up a lame excuse that the local zoo was having a problem with their owls or something,” she tiredly said, massaging her temples. 

Tom raised an eyebrow. “Our daughter isn’t stupid, if you must know,” he stated matter-of-factly. “I have this inkling she’ll be Sorted in Ravenclaw.” 

Rory scowled. “I’ll never let her set foot in Hogwarts,” she replied vehemently. “It’s too dangerous!” 

“She has to know, love,” he said, leaning forward to hold her hand. “She knows she’s different. She _knows_ she can do weird things normal people cannot do. Our daughter is smart, Rory. It is cruel to keep these things from her, when she deserved to know the truth.” 

There were tears in his wife’s eyes, and Tom didn’t want to see them there. Despite not exactly participating in the Second Wizarding War, the wounds of their past lives had ran too deep. Ever since they discovered they were reincarnations of a wizard and a witch, who both played important roles in the War, the wounds had reopened and had yet to heal. Discovering that their daughter was a witch had festered these wounds, and Rory had them worst. 

“She’s just a child,” she said as a tear slid down from her eye. 

“I know,” he said, slowly standing up from his chair to gather her into his arms. “I know, love.”

* * *

 

“Mum, there are still owls in my room,” eleven-year-old Rose complained as she entered the dining area. Already wearing her school uniform, she sauntered towards her father and gave him a kiss. “Good morning, Dad. And can’t you do something about the local zoo’s owl problem? It’s disturbing my studying.” 

“Had a pleasant sleep, Rosie?” Tom asked, folding the morning newspaper and setting it aside. 

Rose snorted and rolled her eyes. “As if,” she grumbled. “The blasted owls wouldn’t let me sleep.” 

“Language, Rose,” Rory sternly said, as she finally placed the plateful of pancakes on the table. “Scorp, wait just a minute!” 

The four-year-old son, caught in the act of sneaking a pancake onto his plate, slowly retrieved his hand and placed it back onto his lap. “Sorry, Mum.” 

Tom looked at his small family with a smirk on his face. “Kids, it’s still eight in the morning and you’re already giving your mother a hard time,” he said, shaking his head with mock seriousness on his face. Rose grinned while Scorpius snickered, and Rory had no choice but to roll her eyes at him. 

“Aren’t you late for work?” she demanded, glaring at her husband. 

“Rory, I’m the Department Chair of Orthopedics in the hospital,” he explained. “I can come in anytime I please, really. Don’t you want to spend more time with your husband, and with our kids?”

“They’ll be late for school,” she shot back, but smiled at him nonetheless. “So, I suggest you lot finish your breakfast so your father can drop you off to school soon, okay?” 

A chorus of ‘Yes, Mum’ resounded in the small room, even Tom had joined. Rory smiled and shook her head, honestly thinking that even if they were such pains in her neck, even at such an hour in the morning, she loved them dearly. 

“Oh, by the way, Dad,” Rose said, rummaging in her pockets. “I found a letter in my room this morning. I know it sounds _really_ weird, but I think one of the owls dropped it?” 

Both Rory and Tom froze on their seats and stared at their daughter in shock. 

“What’s with the faces?” she asked, shooting a suspicious look from one parent to another. “It’s just a letter.” 

“Did you read it?” Rory demanded as Rose slid the letter onto the table. Scorpius commented that the letter looked old, but Rory had snatched it quickly before anybody could inspect it properly. 

“No,” Rose slowly replied, still looking at her parents with suspicion. “It’s addressed to Dad, and I assumed it might be from one of his colleagues in the hospital. Seriously, though, who still uses wax seals?” 

Rory shot a confused looked at Tom, who looked equally confused. “Addressed to your Dad?” she echoed. 

“Well, yeah,” Rose said. “I’m sure my name isn’t ‘Tom’.” 

“Drop that cheeky attitude, young lady,” Tom reprimanded, and she merely stuck out her tongue at him. “Give me the letter, Rory. I’ll read it on the way to work.” 

Rory held onto the letter tighter, a wild glint in her eyes. “Later,” she firmly replied. “The kids will be late for school.” 

* * *

Her later meant an hour after Tom dropped off both Rose and Scorpius in their respective schools. Tom called his secretary and said an emergency arose and instructed to reschedule all of his appointments to tomorrow. Rory also decided not to open her bookshop today, knowing that working wasn’t the most important thing to do right now. 

Currently, they were staying in the coffeeshop where they very first met, and had been eyeing the Hogwarts letter for minutes. 

“Should we open it?” Tom asked, perhaps for the umpteenth time. 

“No,” Rory replied, also for the umpteenth time. 

“What are we going to do?” 

“Shh, I’m thinking,” she said, furrowing her burrows and thoughtfully nibbling her bottom lip. Tom couldn’t help but stare at her now, flashbacks of Hermione Granger in the library entering his mind. She always wore that look when she was deep in thought, and Draco always thought it looked too endearing. With that expression on Rory’s face, Tom felt his heart swell a little and he smiled. 

“Are you smiling?” she demanded, and the smile instantly disappeared. “Do you find this situation amusing?” 

Tom sighed and grabbed her hand. “Rory” - 

“One caramel macchiato with no whipped cream for Rory,” Chris, the owner of the coffeeshop, interrupted and placed the beverage in front of Rory. “And one Earl Grey tea for Dr. Blythe.” He strangely eyed the couple. “Is there some trouble?” 

“No, Chris, everything’s fine,” Rory flippantly dismissed. 

Chris’ eyes landed on the letter on the table and released a low whistle. “That is the most antique thing I had ever seen,” he commented. “Who even uses wax seals now?” 

Rory paled. Tom, on the other hand, wore a humoured smirk on his face and slightly laid back on his chair. “Right?” he smoothly replied. “Some dunderhead might be playing a prank on me or something.” 

The older man chuckled. “Well, have fun then,” he said, and waved his hand goodbye. 

As soon as he’s gone, Tom’s smirk slipped away. 

“I think we should burn this,” Rory offered after making sure there were no eavesdroppers around. 

Tom lifted an eyebrow. “And that would accomplish something, I’m sure,” he drawled. “For all we know, the letter is laced with magic, so burning it might not be a good idea.” He ran a hand through his blond hair and sighed. “Besides, you know that they will keep coming, right?” 

Rory scowled and crumpled the unopened letter. She dropped it inside her purse and crossed her arms. “We should call Animal Control and lay some traps for the owls,” she said. “Better yet, we should barricade the fireplace and other openings in our house.” 

“Rory,” Tom said, grasping her hand. “Maybe we should just read the letter and send a reply of rejection.” It was the most sensible thing to do, now that he thought about it. He was sure that the letters would then stop and not bother them anymore. 

“I-I can’t,” Rory tearfully said, and Tom was confused. 

“Why not?” he asked. 

She looked away from him as a tear rolled down. “You won’t understand,” she said, voice thick with emotion. 

“Try me,” he replied. 

Slowly, Rory looked back at him, eyes shining with such a terrified expression he had never seen her wear before. 

“It has Harry Potter’s handwriting.” 

* * *

Rory Blythe was in a bad mood the moment she opened her bookshop. She believed she had scared off a bunch of high schoolers from buying, and normally she would have lamented over the loss of young customers. They always made her happy, knowing that some kids still liked to read paperbacks, instead of burying their noses in their smartphones and laptops. But she hadn’t been sleeping for days now, what with the blasted owls always disturbing their house, and Rory couldn’t afford to relax. 

Rose was already growing suspicious, especially with the influx of the old-fashioned letter with the weird wax seal. Scorpius also had almost curiously teared a letter open, if Tom hadn’t snatched it quickly and reprimanded their confused son for meddling with things he shouldn’t meddle with. 

Rory always had to rush to their house to clear up the mess the owls made before their children arrived. Tom always made it a point to sometimes arrive late in their children’s schools just to give Rory some time to clean-up. 

The days were an utter nightmare, and Rory just wished Hogwarts would stop being too persistent. She remembered Harry Potter’s story, how his relatives also tried to withhold his Hogwarts acceptance letter from him, but Hagrid barged in and swept him away. The rest was history, of course, and Rory refused to think what would happen if a half-giant barged into their house to sweep her own daughter away. 

This thought had plagued her for days, contributing to her insomnia. Muggle-borns were just as important as Purebloods and Half-bloods in the Wizarding World. She was sure they wouldn’t let it slide if Rose Blythe wasn’t able to attend, despite her talents. 

“Oh wow, you look like hell, Rory,” Jonathan claimed, announcing his arrival. 

Rory weakly smiled, silently relieved that he came for a distraction. “Fancy seeing you here,” she greeted back. “How was school?” 

He made a face and sauntered closer to the counter. “Honestly, I came here to get away from uni, but you just had to bring it up,” he grumbled, absentmindedly grabbing a random pile of books to put them back in place. “I came to help you, aren’t you happy?” 

“You are wonderful, Jonathan Wilkes,” she said with a relieved sigh. Rory wasn’t planning on cleaning thoroughly today, knowing that she might collapse any time soon from anxiety and lack of sleep. But, she worried the mess she would leave and she was utterly grateful Jonathan was there to help her. 

“I know,” he said with a brilliant smile. “So, can you leave Dr. Blythe and instead come running into my arms?” 

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “You haven’t changed a bit,” she said, “You’re still such a child.” 

He scowled at her reply. “I’m a bloody graduating, college student,” he said. “I’m quite sure I’m not a _child_.” 

Rory smiled. Jonathan had grown over the years, both physically and mentally, and as a doting pseudo-sister, she was proud of what he was now achieving. She would terribly miss him, now that he had to focus more on his thesis in order to graduate next year. 

“Don’t grow too fast, Jonathan,” she said, followed by a sad sigh. “We have all the time in the world.” 

The younger man gathered her in his arms and gave her a squeeze, prompting a shout of laughter from her. “Something’s bothering you,” he said, as he pulled away and worriedly peered down at her. “I’m here to help, Rory, you know that.” 

“I know, I know,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “But, you’re busy with school. Don’t worry about me; I have Tom to help.” 

Jonathan gave a huge, melodramatic sigh and shook his head. “Ever since he came, I’ve been indispensable,” he whined. “I used to be your favorite!” 

Rory laughed and playfully ruffled his hair. It made her heart swell a bit that he sometimes acted like a child. Her laugh was abruptly cut, however, when an owl swooped down on the counter. He placed a letter in front of Rory and flew away. 

“W-what the bloody hell was that?” Jonathan demanded, peering down on the letter, but Rory immediately pocketed it away. 

“Nothing,” she hastily said. “Just some stupid prank from Tom’s hospital.” 

He didn’t buy her excuse. “I’m quite sure owls aren’t supposed to deliver letters, Rory,” he said with a frown. 

Instead of answering him, her eyes were fixated on a parliament of at least six owls swooping inside her shop. They all dropped identical letters on the counter, addressed to her, before fluttering away. Hogwarts must be really desperate to hear from Rose's family to start addressing letters to her parents.

Rory paled in panic, snatching the letters away. Jonathan looked flabbergasted, his mouth hanging open from the spectacle he witnessed. At least ten more owls came by, dropped letters, and left. 

“I think it is best if you leave now,” Rory hastily said, grabbing her cloak and wearing it. 

“B-but the _owls_ , Rory” - 

“ _Now_ , Jonathan,” she firmly said, piercing him with a glare. He slightly shrank back from the expression on her face, before slowly nodding his head. 

“Will you be all right?” 

 _‘No,’_ a traitorous voice said, but Rory managed to crack a small smile. “I’ll call Animal Control,” she assured. “Now, go. I have some things to attend to.” 

The college student still looked highly skeptical, but followed her nonetheless. He shot a terrified, strange look at the five more owls that came to deliver the letter, before completely leaving the bookstore. 

Once he was gone, she glared at the annoying owls. They flew away instantly, and Rory quickly closed her bookstore. 

They had to do something about this. 

* * *

This was such a bothersome part of his job, but Headmaster Harry Potter knew he had no choice but to go. The portraits in his office had been eyeing him with disapproval when he voiced his opinion once that those who did not want to go to Hogwarts shouldn’t be forced to. Headmaster Dippet, who was probably hailed the most loyal headmaster Hogwarts ever had (Dumbledore was a close second), had reprimanded and lecture him on the duty of the current Headmaster to educate the ignorant, especially the Muggle parents of Muggle-borns, on the implications of not allowing their children to attend Hogwarts. Besides, he reminded that the current Headmaster should know better, seeing that he almost didn't attend Hogwarts because of his bloody relatives.

Normally, this job would fall under the Deputy Headmistress Susan Bones, but she was currently on a vacation with her grandchildren. Harry didn’t want to bother the other teachers, and seeing that he was quite free for a few weeks, he knew that the job fell onto him. 

Now, Headmaster Potter was already a tired, old man. He had seen his grandchildren attend and graduate in Hogwarts. He had been through a lot of generations of talented, young witches and wizards, but he still honestly thought his position in his beloved school had been such a huge responsibility to him, and perhaps too troublesome. 

But then, as the hailed The-Boy-Who-Lived (-Twice, if they were speaking about technicalities), he always felt like had to protect the students and their childhood from any possible repetitions of the Second Wizarding War. It had been his driving force, his ultimate goal, and perhaps the sole reason why he was chosen as the Headmaster to succeed Minerva McGonagall. 

Thus, Headmaster Potter found himself walking on a one, cool Sunday night on the streets of a suburban street somewhere in London. The houses had pretty lawns, probably maintained by its residents just to claim the bragging rights for the best-kept property. It was sickeningly reminiscent of his childhood home with the Dursleys, and he half-expected his purple uncle emerging somewhere and cursing him for his existence. 

He chuckled under his breath, thinking that he was slowly growing senile for his age. No wonder he heard some of his students muttering rumours behind his back, how the ‘Great Harry Potter’ was slowly becoming off his rocker. Grinning, he remembered how Headmaster Dumbledore looked too put out, wanting to be remembered he was the most eccentric among the Headmaster of Hogwarts. 

Harry looked at his magical watch and sighed. He must make haste, if he wanted to have a meeting with his new teaching staff. Professor Cynthia Longbottom would be assuming the Herbology position, which had been recently vacated by her father, Neville Longbottom, to spend his retirement days with his wife, Hannah. He still had some difficulty finding a Care for Magical Creatures professor; sadly, nobody could replace Hagrid (may he rest in peace). 

He looked at the address once more to double-check, and then finally found himself in front of the house he was looking for. The house looked quaint, with the same kept lawn in front. There were pretty sunflowers planted on said lawn; perhaps, the only house that had the flowers. It was refreshingly cheery, and Harry wondered why the parents refused to reply to their daughter’s acceptance in Hogwarts. 

Harry braced himself on the front door, before ringing the doorbell. Muggle parents were always the hardest to handle. Sometimes, he had to Obliviate the parents who were notoriously violent, spouting expletives how witchcraft and wizardry were the ‘works of the devil’ and they would never allow their children to practice such an evil, little thing. Harry felt a little sorry for the children he had to leave, wondering what would happen to their wasted gifts. 

As he waited for the door to be answered, he prayed to whoever who could listen to him that these parents wouldn’t drive him away in an instant. 

The door finally opened and the old, wizened headmaster showed his best smile for a good first impression. Confused, he blinked as there was no one in the front door. He wondered if this was a work of magic, but a tiny cough from below mildly surprised him. 

“You have strange clothes, Mister.” 

Blinking, he looked at the short toddler who answered the door. He had a shocking shade of pale, blond, curly hair, with a pointy nose, and a pointy chin. He oddly resembled an old classmate in Hogwarts, and Harry couldn’t help but feel amused. 

“Hello,” he greeted, “are your parents home?” 

“Who are you?” he demanded, crossing short arms against his parents. “What do you want from Mum and Dad?” 

Before he could answer, a voice from somewhere in the house interrupted them. “Scorpius!” a female voice, perhaps the mother’s?, screeched. “What did I tell you about answering the door?” 

 _‘Scorpius?’_ he mused. _‘What an odd name for a Muggle child.’_

The boy, Scorpius, looked guiltily on the ground, and muttered, “Sorry Mum” under his breath. Harry then heard approaching footsteps and readied himself to greet the mother. 

Just as soon as her face appeared, Harry felt his jaw drop. The mother’s eyes widened upon seeing his presence, and the glass of water she was holding slipped from her grasp. There was a resounding shatter heard, but Harry heard blood rushing to his ears. 

“H-Hermione?” 

* * *

The doorbell rang and Rory groaned. “You get that,” she said, nudging her big toe against Tom’s knee. Said husband was casually flipping through a medical book for a surgery case he had tomorrow, and grunted in annoyance. 

“You get that,” he replied, nudging her in return. 

Rory scowled, prompting him to smirk, and she had the unbearable urge to chuck the paperback she was reading at his general direction. Tom would tease her if she did, telling her she would be a terrible role model to her children, as she always resorted to some form of violence to get him to do what she wanted. 

“Tom,” she warned with a glare. 

He coolly met her eyes, that stupid smirk still on his face. “We can continue fighting over who would get that,” he said, “but I think your son already answered the door.” 

Rory groaned and abruptly stood up from the comfortable couch she was sitting on. “ _Scorpius_ , honestly,” she proclaimed, glaring at her husband once more as if he was at fault. “And he’s your bloody son, too.” 

“Tsk, Rory, language,” he said, casually moving his head to the right to dodge the paperback that soared at his direction. 

“I can’t believe I love you!” she exclaimed, before stomping away, and ignoring his chuckles. She grabbed a glass of water on the way and Rory quickened her pace when she heard Scorpius’ voice, already talking to the intruder at such an ungodly time of the day. “Scorpius!” she hollered. “What did I tell you about answering the door?” 

Her son almost jumped in surprise, and guiltily looked at the floor. “Sorry, Mum,” he muttered, looking utterly shamefaced that Rory didn’t even feel a tad angry anymore. She blamed the fact that he looked too much like his father, and he was adorable to boot. Scorpius was a sweet child, albeit a menace when he wanted to be. 

Rory shifted her eyes at the visitor, an old man with a peculiar ensemble of clothes. His mouth was agape, though, and she was confused at his reaction upon seeing her. She squinted her eyes a little, swearing that the man was very familiar. A cool breeze from outside ruffled his greying hair away, and that was when she caught a glimpse of the famous, lightning bolt scar of Hermione Granger’s best friend. The glass she was holding slipped from her hand and she took a step back in unadulterated surprise. 

“H-Hermione?” 

She took a sharp intake of breath at the address and Rory didn’t know what to do. 

“Rory?” she heard Tom ask. “Is something the matter?” 

He quickly arrived beside her, a worried look on his face, before looking at the visitor, too. Rory heard him gasp in surprise, and knew her husband recognised the old man. 

“Mum?” Scorpius asked, noticing the sudden tension in the room. He crept closer to Rory and grasped the hem of her t-shirt. “Mum, what’s wrong?” 

Rory was at loss for words, and thankfully Tom came into rescue. “Scorp, son, I think you should go to your room until we call you, yeah?” he suggested. 

The child still looked confused and worried at his mother, before slowly nodding his head, and leaving the adults behind. 

“Potter,” Tom calmly said, directing his steely eyes at the dumbfounded, old wizard. “I think it is best you come inside.”

Harry’s eyes finally snapped at the blond man standing beside Rory, his eyes growing wider, if it was physically possible. He grew paler as a minute passed by, and Tom had to repeat his suggestion before the Headmaster obliged. 

“Love,” Tom whispered, grabbing her elbow to catch her attention. “Come on.” 

Rory mechanically nodded and allowed her husband to steer her towards the living room, where Harry Potter was already seated on one of the couches. His hair, although with streaks of grey already, was still impossibly disheveled, and Rory had to choke back her tears upon seeing the scar on his forehead once more. 

Tom seated her on the chair opposite Harry’s, and claimed the spot beside her. 

“What brings you here?” Tom finally asked, an unreadable expression on his face. Rory envied his ability to mask his emotions at such a shocking situation, and had thanked her lucky stars for giving her such a cool and collected husband. 

She could feel her heart jumping, expectantly looking at Harry Potter, and Hermione Granger’s memories of her adventures with him and her other best friend, Ronald Weasley, replayed in her mind. She didn’t understand the strange emotions swelling in her heart. She had never seen this man in her years as Rory Jones, now a Blythe, but Hermione’s feelings had overwhelmed her to silence. 

Briefly, she saw Hermione’s memory of Harry Potter’s death, and felt mournful all of a sudden. 

“I… came to persuade Rose Blythe’s parents to let her attend Hogwarts,” Headmaster weakly responded. “But, I-I don’t understand, you…” He looked at the piece of parchment on his hand, most likely baring their address and their names, before looking back at Rory once more. “You’re… I-I…” 

His green eyes were shining bright, and Rory finally found her voice. “I… I’m not Hermione,” she softly said, and had to look away at the utter confusion and devastation that appeared on the old man’s face. 

“But…” He weakly gestured at her general appearance as a tear slipped down from his eyes. “I don’t understand. You recognise me, I can see it in your eyes. If… if you’re not H-Hermione…” 

Rory felt Tom grasp her hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. She felt hot tears streaming down her face, too, and it made her marginally comforted she wasn’t alone to confront Harry Potter. 

“Do you believe in reincarnation, Harry Potter?” she asked, a weak smile on her face. 

He looked slightly astonished by her question, before gradual realisation dawned on him. His emerald green eyes, the one that people always told him he got from his mother, widened into saucers and his mouth became agape. 

“Hello, my name is Rory Blythe,” she greeted, absentmindedly wiping her tears away. “And I think you already arrived at the conclusion that I am the reincarnation of Hermione Granger.” 

Harry took a deep, shuddering breath, before unabashedly crying openly. At the corner of her eyes, she could see that Tom looked highly uncomfortable. Rory thought that maybe he was recalling Draco Malfoy’s memories of Harry Potter. They always had a rocky relationship, him and Draco, and she knew it made Tom discomfited to see his past life’s nemesis crying in front of him. 

“W-when I heard that you died,” Harry said, voice thick with sincere emotions, “I… we c-couldn’t believe it. Our Hermione…” 

“I remember your death,” she offered, freely crying too. “And I am a bit sad Hermione didn’t know that your death was a part of the plan, that you were merely killing Voldemort’s piece of soul inside you to render him mortal once more.” 

Harry briefly hid his face behind his wrinkly hands, before earnestly looking at her once more. “I… I was guilty I never told her how much I appreciated her presence in my life,” he said. “I never told Hermione that I love her, that I wouldn’t have been alive if it weren’t for her, and that life would be very, very sad if she wasn’t part of my life. I cannot shake the feeling I was responsible for her death. Hermione was… She was…” 

Rory, her heart going to the poor, grieving man in front of her, stood up from her seat and quickly grasped Harry’s hand. “Oh, Harry,” she found herself saying. “Please, don’t think that way.” Those were the words Hermione would have said to her best friend, to the boy that had been a huge part of the bushy-haired Gryffindor’s life. “I may not be Hermione, but I think you should believe me when I say that she would think you are ridiculous for even thinking her death was your fault.” 

Harry chuckled despite his tears, and enclosed his other hand on top of hers. “That’s her,” he said. “She would say that.” He wiped his tears away and warmly smiled at Rory. “Every day, in my heart, you have stayed. I still miss you a lot.” 

She felt strangely moved by his words and gathered him into her arms. “Hermione would have missed you, too, I’m sure,” she said. 

He patted her back, and felt him stiffen slightly in her embrace. Confused, Rory pulled herself away from the old wizard, and looked at his face. Harry was strangely looking at something behind her back, or more specifically _someone_ , and looked at her husband. Tom had a strange expression on his face, before lifting a perfectly arched eyebrow, the infamous Malfoy smirk on place. 

“This might be attributed to my developing senility,” Headmaster Potter said, “but I think the blond one looked eerily like Malfoy.” 

Rory grinned and sat down beside her husband once more. 

“Hello, Harry Potter,” he lazily drawled, draping an arm around Rory. “My name is Tom Blythe, and I am the reincarnation of Draco Malfoy.” 

Harry’s eyes widened at the revelation, gobsmacked especially at how Tom pulled her tightly against him. Rory rolled her eyes at his ridiculous antics, but couldn’t help but smile at Harry’s reaction. 

“Godric, you married _Malfoy_?” Headmaster Potter made a face that did not suit his wise, wizened age, and Rory couldn’t help but laugh a loud. 

“Technically, I’m a Blythe,” the doctor replied. “I hate to break this to you, but Malfoy is a thing of the past.” 

Harry lightly glared at the blond, and Rory chuckled. 

“Oh, Harry, your schoolboy grudge is very unbecoming of a distinguished Headmaster,” she cajoled. “I mean, look at you, Headmaster of _Hogwarts_. Didn’t you and Ron always joke about how it was Hermione who would most likely be the next Headmistress?” 

The old wizard shrugged and leaned back against the couch. “Things happened,” he flippantly said, still a small smile on his face. “Goals changed. And now, I’m hailed as the youngest Headmaster Hogwarts ever had.” 

“Another title to add to your growing list eh, Potter,” Tom droned, smirk still in place. Harry looked mildly green upon eyeing the arm over her shoulder once more, before shaking his head and sighing. 

Instead of getting affronted, Harry slightly leaned forward and peered at the couple. “Is it safe to assume that both of you are Muggles?” he asked. He sighed when the simultaneously nodded their heads. “Figures. You would have attended Hogwarts if you were both magic.” 

Rory somehow doubted she would accept her Hogwarts acceptance letter, memories of Hermione Granger in mind. 

“So what do you do now?” the headmaster asked. Rory had to suppress a grin; Harry seriously looked like an old grandfather, quizzing his children. It felt strange to see him older than she was. From what she remembered, wizards tend to live past a hundred years. Rory wondered how old Harry was now. 

“Rory owns a bookstore,” Tom answered. “I’m currently an orthopaedic doctor.” 

Harry’s eyes widened. “Blimey, a _Muggle Healer_?” he asked, clearly in disbelief. 

“I don’t see why you’re astonished by it, Potter,” Tom said with a frown. “I am a bright man.” 

Rory snorted, earning her a glare from her husband. 

“Hermione always dreamed of owning a bookshop,” Harry said, now grinning at Rory. “I’m… glad you have fulfilled her dream.” 

She returned his smile with one of her own. “I’m glad, too,” she said with a nod. “I love my bookstore.” 

“Although, everything is a pleasant surprise, I actually came here with a goal in mind,” Harry then said, rummaging inside his pockets, to retrieved the familiar, old-fashioned Hogwarts letter. “I believe this one belongs to your daughter.” 

Rory and Tom exchanged looks. Harry looked confused and curious with their reaction, and Rory sighed. “We’re not letting Rose attend Hogwarts,” she simply said. 

Harry grew more confused and surprised. “You know that this is a remarkable opportunity for your daughter,” he said. “I think you remember how Muggle-borns had… _unpleasant_ experiences during their childhood, prior to discovering that they aren't quite different after all.” 

“It’s…” Rory licked her lips and lightly leaned against Tom for support. “With the Second Wizarding War in mind… you know how Hogwarts is dangerous for children, Harry. You, of all people, should know that.” 

The Headmaster suddenly looked wearier, and Rory was hit with the fact that he was actually _quite_ old already. In her eyes, she could still see Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived and Hermione’s best friend. “I must admit that Albus had his… _shortcomings_ during his time as the Headmaster of Hogwarts,” he softly said. “Using children as his soldiers for the Second Wizarding War…” Harry considerably paled and he shook his head. “I became a Headmaster because I wanted to protect the new generation from whatever we experienced in the past, Hermione.” 

Rory bit her lip, stopping herself from correcting Harry that she wasn’t Hermione, that she was Rory, but the look on Harry’s face had stopped her. Hermione always thought it was slightly unfair how they were manipulated as pawns in the War,  but she knew it was necessary, and that Harry was the only one who could defeat the darkest wizard to ever grace this Earth. But the deaths of children were high during the Second Wizarding War; it was unacceptable. The children were supposed to be protected. 

“Rose has too much of Hermione in her,” Rory explained. “I’m… scared to think of what she would do once trouble arose in the Wizarding World once more.” 

Harry frowned and looked at Tom. “What do you have to say to this, Mal… _err_ … Blythe?” he asked. 

Tom rolled his eyes at his accidental slip, but answered him nonetheless. “My predecessor's a bloody Death Eater in the past, Potter,” he spat. “He was a _child_. Do you honestly think I’ll allow my daughter in a place that had robbed children from their youth one too many times?” 

Harry grew somber and clasped both of his hands. Rory was struck how wise and mature Hermione’s Harry Potter had grown, and felt her heart swell a bit. She just wasn’t quite sure if it was hers or Hermione’s. 

“Does Rose know that she’s special?” Harry asked. 

“She has too much of Hermione in her,” Tom repeated following a soft snort. “What do you expect?” 

The Headmaster pursed his lips and slowly looked back at Rory. “Rose still deserves to know,” he said. 

“What do I deserve to know?” 

Rory’s eyes widened upon hearing her daughter’s voice. Beside her, she heard Tom silently swear under her breath, and lightly glared at Harry Potter, blaming him for their current situation. 

“Rose, sweetheart, I think you should go to your room,” Rory calmly said, but Rose wouldn’t budge. 

“No, no, you have to tell me what’s going on,” she stubbornly replied, crossing her arms against her chest. “I accepted your excuse about the owls, Mum, but I think it’s too weird how they always followed us around. I saw the stack of letters you kept in your room and most of them had _my name_ on it. And this… this _old man_ ” - she gestured at Harry with both of her arms - “ _Something_ is going on.” 

Rory wanted to get mad at how Rose resorted to snooping in her room, but she couldn’t blame Rose’s curiosity. Sighing, she lightly glared at Tom. “Do something about your daughter,” she whispered through clenched teeth. 

“She’s your daughter, too,” Tom replied with a scowl. 

“I did something about _my_ son,” she bit back. “It’s your turn now.” 

“Gods, Rory!” he cried in exasperation, before turning at Rose with a deep frown on his face. Normally, she would have been appeased already by her father’s reaction. Rory hated to admit but she really did look up at Tom more than she did to her and felt a little jealous in her part. But seeing how Tom and Rose interacted with each other made her love them all the more. 

“Rose, go to your room,” Tom firmly said. “That’s final.” 

“I still think she needs to know,” Headmaster Potter piped in. 

Rory exclaimed a loud “Shut up, Harry” at the same time Tom growled a “Shut up, Potter”. It thoroughly amused the headmaster, but obliged nonetheless and grew silent. 

Rose still stood her ground, lifting her chin up in the air. “I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s going on,” she grounded out defiantly. 

“Tom,” Rory snapped with a glare. 

The doctor sighed, massaged his temples, before saying, “Come sit beside me, Rose.” 

“Tom Blythe!” 

“Rory, love,” Tom said, grabbing her hand and giving it a squeeze. “You know how our daughter is. She wouldn’t back down and yes, yes, I know this is all my fault for spoiling her.” He grinned a little at her withering glare. “But, I hate to really say this, but Potter is _right_. She needs to know.” 

Tears pricked her eyes, but Rory knew she already had no choice. Tom, with a sigh, gently kissed her forehead and left a space for Rose to sit on. Their daughter looked slightly hesitant now, worriedly looking at Rory’s tears, but her curiosity was too huge to ignore. Finally, she sat down beside Tom and expectantly looked at Headmaster Potter. 

“Before I introduce myself, I believe this is yours,” Harry said, giving her the letter that had bothered their household for a week. 

Rose grasped the letter with her two hands, then questioningly looked at her father for permission. 

“Go on,” he urged. “Look, it has your name on it.” 

The eleven-year-old gingerly tore the letter open and read its contents. The three adults watched her as she took in the words on the letter. There was another sheet inside, one that contained the list of books and materials needed for her first year in Hogwarts, but Rose opted to fold the parchment away and looked back at Harry once more. 

Rory was shocked to see that her daughter was calm, albeit a little pale, but there was no surprise on her face at all. 

“I’m a witch,” she simply said. Tom wrapped an arm around Rose, and she looked up at him with a small smile on her face. 

“You’re not surprised?” her father asked. 

“I… _figured_ ,” she replied. “I’m different, Dad. I can do things no normal kid could do. I can make things float, burst into flames, and… well, sometimes when I think bad thoughts about other people, something bad happens and I _knew_ it was my fault.” 

She looked slightly shaken, possibly thinking of the shocking things she discovered she could do, and clung onto her father more. “I knew you and Mum knew something,” she continued. “I could see the terror in Mum’s eyes when she caught me washing the dishes without using my hands or… or how you always change the subject when I tell you about the things I can do. I’m just, you know, waiting for you to say something.” 

Rose weakly smiled and looked at her silently crying mother. “No offence, Mum, but I think your excuse about the owls was really lame,” she said, prompting Rory to slightly chuckle. 

“You’re not mad?” Tom worriedly asked, and breathed a sigh of relief when Rose shook her head. 

“I am a little frustrated you’re not telling me anything,” she said, leaning her head against her father’s shoulder. “But I knew you must have a reason why you won’t tell me anything.” She straightened herself and looked at both of her parents with absolute resolution in her eyes. “Mum, Dad, I don’t know what your past selves went through, but I promise to you both, I won’t be reckless at all.” 

Rory’s eyes widened at what she had said. “You’ve been eavesdropping,” she accused, but the anger and disappointment she wanted to project was gone. Instead, she heard herself sound more resigned and tired. 

Rose looked ashamed. “I’m sorry, Mum,” she said. “But when Scorp ran to my room and told me an old man with strange clothes arrived, I had a feeling I’ll get the answers I’ve always wanted.” 

Tom’s eyes slightly narrowed a little, before sighing. “Scorpius Blythe, come out here,” he announced. 

Said son slowly walked out from where Rose came from, his chubby cheeks slightly blushing with guilt and embarrassment. “I’m sorry, Dad,” he said, eyes a little too wide and bright. “I didn’t mean, too.” 

Rory sighed and shook her head. Her kids were impossible, but she terribly loved them. Besides, she was done with keeping secrets, now that even Harry knew of their situation. “Come here,” she ushered. 

Scorpius didn’t need to be told twice and ran towards his mother and climbed onto her lap. “You’re not mad, Mum, yeah?” he asked, pouting up at her. “I won’t do it again. Please don’t lock up Mr. Snuffles.” 

She couldn’t help but smile at him and hugged him tight. “I won’t lock up Mr. Snuffles,” she reassured, talking about his stuffed dragon he loved so much. 

“This is honestly an odd sight to behold,” Harry then said, speaking for the first time. Rose, with her dirty blond, bushy hair and steely grey eyes, and Scorpius, with his brown, curly hair and honey-coloured eyes - they both were the perfect combination of Tom and Rory. 

“Who are you, old man?” Rose demanded, prompting Tom to smirk and to Rory to roll her eyes. 

“Rose, be polite,” her mother admonished. 

Her daughter added a meek “sir”, but still expectantly looked at him. 

“My name is Harry Potter, and I’ll be your Headmaster in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,” Harry introduced. “ _If_ , your parents allowed you to attend.” 

“Can I come, too?” Scorpius asked. 

“How old are you, lad?” 

The boy proudly puffed out his chest. “I’ll be turning five soon, Headmaster, sir,” he said with a grin. 

Harry looked at his parents, silently asking if he had showed any signs of accidental magic, but they both shook their head no. “If you turn eleven, then we’ll see if you can come,” he assured. 

Scorpius looked devastated as he looked up at his mother. “Can’t I come with Rosie, Mum?” he asked. “I promise to be good.” 

“Scorp, sweetheart,” she said, brushing his fringes away from his forehead. “You’re too young to go. You still have to stay with Mum and Dad so that we can take care of you until you’re a big boy. _Besides_ , who said Rose was going?” 

“Mum…” 

Rory pierced Rose with a glare, and her daughter quickly fell silent. She instead directed her pleading eyes at her father, and Tom sighed. 

“Do you really want to go, Rose?” 

“Tom!” Rory exclaimed. 

His husband ignored her and instead repeated his question. 

Rose, with a determined glint in her eyes, resolutely nodded her head. “Yes,” she simply said. 

“No,” Rory interjected. 

“Rory…” Tom said.

Her tears were back and she looked away from him. Scorpius grasped her hand for comfort, but it didn’t help her a bit. 

“I think this is Rose’s decision to make, and not yours or mine,” Tom said. He sent a sideways glance at Harry, who had an unreadable expression on his face. “You heard Potter. I… _damn it_ for making me say this, but I _trust_ him. He vows to protect the children under his wing, and I’m sure he’d do the same if Rose attended Hogwarts.” 

Before she could answer, Rose stood up from her place beside her father and went to her side. “Mum,” she said as she sat down beside her. “I… don’t _belong_ here.” 

Rory’s heart ached a little at the truth her daughter spoke. She caught Rose crying one too many times, bullied and neglected by her classmates because of how odd she was. Rory couldn’t do anything about it and she hated herself for it. 

“And maybe I can finally make friends if I go to Hogwarts,” she continued, a small smile on her face. “I promise to study well and become the top of every class I will take.” 

Harry had a stupid grin on his face, undoubtedly thinking about his best friend during their Hogwarts years, and Rory couldn’t help but softly laugh. 

“You have too much of Hermione in you,” she said, this time with less fear and worry, but more of fondness and pride. 

To her surprise, Rose shook her head, her wild curls flying around her face. “No, Mum, I have too much of Rory Blythe in me,” she corrected. 

Her heart swelled at her words and quickly drew her daughter into her arms. “Oh, Rosie,” she said, more tears falling from her eyes as she kissed her forehead. “ _Fine_ , all right, I’ll allow you. But you have to promise to write us every day. To tell us if you’ve met mountain trolls or fought deadly basilisks or… or… got knocked out cold and waited in that stupid, stupid Black Lake for some handsome Quidditch player to save you.” 

Rose clearly didn’t understand anything her mother said but nodded nonetheless. 

“Clearly, she got her sweet-talking from me,” Tom said with a proud grin. “Definitely a _Slytherin_.” 

“Gryffindor,” Rory and Harry simultaneous said, prompting both of them to chuckle and Tom to scowl. 

“Well then, that is settled,” Harry said with a pleasant clap. “Miss Blythe,” he said, addressing young Rose, “as the letter stated, enclosed in that envelope is the list of books and things you’ll need for the new school year. Since both of your parents are Muggles - that is, non-magical beings - Hogwarts would provide your tuition for the first year.” 

Then, he looked at both Tom and Rory. “From second through her seventh, I leave the expenses to both you,” he said. “I suggest you open an account in Gringotts to store the money your daughter would need for her education.” 

“Dad, dad,” Scorpius whispered, tugging Draco’s t-shirt. “He speaks funny.” 

Tom widely grinned, earning him a disapproving glance from the Headmaster. “Are you listening, Mister Blythe?” he demanded. 

Rory lightly chuckled and couldn’t believe that Harry Potter was every bit a respectable Headmaster. Tom slightly withered under his stare and leaned closer to his wife. Silently, Rory thought that Hermione Granger would be very proud Harry Potter sounded like a serious professor right now. 

“Oh my, look at the time,” Harry then said, jumping onto his feet. “I have to go now. I trust that you’ll know how to get to Diagon Alley?” 

Both Tom and Rory shared a secret smile, remembering their little adventure years ago in Charing Cross Road. 

“Yes, Headmaster Potter,” Tom said, smirking at the old wizard. 

“Rose,” Rory said, “bring your brother to his room. You should sleep, too.” 

Rose nodded, bid Headmaster Potter her goodbye, and led Scorpius upstairs. The little boy protested all the way up, saying that he wasn’t sleepy yet, but his drooping eyes had betrayed him. 

As soon as they were out of earshot, Rory surprised both Tom and Harry by flinging her arms around the old wizard. “Please keep my daughter safe,” she pleaded, then pulled away from the astonished headmaster. 

“You don’t have to ask me, Rory,” Harry said. “I still will.” 

Rory smiled and fondly held both of his hands. “Take care, Headmaster Harry Potter,” she said. 

Harry’s eyes were dewy and bright once more, but his tears didn’t fall. “Hermione Granger would be proud you are her reincarnation,” Harry said. He then took turned to Tom and shook his hand. “Best of luck, Dr. Tom Blythe.” 

“You too, Potter,” Tom said, a goodnatured smile on his face. 

Harry nodded his head and was about to go out of their house but stopped in his tracks. “I… hate to be a bother, but may I write to you, Mrs. Blythe?” Harry asked, complete with a smile. 

“I’m not Hermione Granger, Harry,” she reminded with a sad smile. 

Harry’s smile wavered a bit. “I know,” he said. “It’s just… can’t you indulge an old man, Rory? I can keep you updated with Rose’s progression in school.” 

Rory’s smile widened. “I have all the time in the world, so I don’t see why not,” she said. 

Harry’s face lit up and finally said his farewell. The distinct pop of apparation resounded in their deserted street and soon, Harry Potter was gone. 

Rory took a deep breath, head still reeling with how the events unfolded tonight, and felt utterly tired all of a sudden. 

“You okay, Rory?” Tom asked, lacing his fingers through hers. 

Despite the emotional rollercoaster she went through the past few weeks, Rory flashed the brightest smile she could ever muster. “Never been better, love,” she replied. 

* * *

The weeks before September 1st flew by. The small family was busy getting Rose ready for her first day in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The Diagon Alley adventure was an _interesting_ one, and until this day, Rory regretted bringing Scorpius with them. Some of the people, especially the older ones actually bravely commented that she and her husband looked like someone they used to know, but both Rory and Tom politely replied that they were Muggles and were only accompanying their Muggle-born daughter. 

Rory and Headmaster Potter had exchanged a few letters during those weeks, and Rory was able to be updated with the people in Hermione Granger’s life. Ron Weasley, Hermione’s other best friend, had been living in Romania ever since the end of the Second Wizarding War to become a Dragonkeeper, like his brother. He occasionally visited, and Rory promised she would show herself to Ronald and reveal to him that she was Hermione Granger’s reincarnation. 

What had astonished her the most was the fact that Percy Weasley was the current Minister of Magic of the Wizarding World, and was apparently hailed as the best minister to have ever lived. She could remember the snotty, arrogant Weasley, but felt quite happy that at least he was able to live. 

As expected, Harry married Ginny but the redhead had passed away five years ago and Rory was quite sad she wasn’t able to meet her. 

Before she knew it, it was already two days before they send off Rose to Hogwarts and it also meant that it was Scorpius’ fifth birthday. They decided to celebrate as a family only, without inviting anyone besides Headmaster Potter who came, just to also celebrate Rose’s impending first day in Hogwarts. 

Suffice to say, Scorpius somehow threw a tantrum, demanding to invite his friends from his pre-school. To quickly appease him, Rory brought out the cake for them to finally eat, but Scorpius was too angry and the cake blew up into smithereens. 

 _“I guess I’ll be expecting you in six years, Scorpius Blythe_ ,” Headmaster Potter said with a grin. Rory looked utterly devastated that her baby was also a person of magic, strengthening her theory that all their children would turn out to have magic. Thankfully, Scorpius forgot that his friends weren’t invited and had spent the whole night of his birthday asking Headmaster Potter about all the magical beings he would see. 

Now, the Blythe family were waiting for their turn to pass through the barrier between Platforms 9 and 10. Tom was pushing Rose’s luggage while Rose was carrying a furry, orange, half-kneazle in her arms that greatly resembled Hermione Granger’s crookshanks. Rory was carrying Scorpius in her arms, who was currently napping. 

“I can’t believe it!” a woman exclaimed from behind. “It’s you!” 

Rory and Tom questioningly looked at the woman. 

“Don’t you remember me?” she asked. “I think that was years ago, but we talked with each other when were also waiting for our turn to pass through the barrier.” 

Rory finally remembered the woman and pleasantly smiled. “Yes, hello, how have you been?” she amicably asked, noting that like last time, there was a nervous eleven-year-old boy standing beside the older woman. 

“Good, good, I’m finally sending off my youngest to Hogwarts,” she said with a huge beam. “Finally getting rid of the youngsters and having more time for myself, eh?” She looked at Rose, who was curiously looking at her and her son. “Oh, and another one of your daughters about to go to Hogwarts, too?” 

Rose looked confused, but Tom quickly answered, “Yes.” 

“Well, you’ll surely enjoy Hogwarts, my dear,” she said, warmly gazing down at Rose. “And look, you’ll be in the same year as my son, Timothy.” 

The son shyly waved his hand at Rose, who returned it with a smile. 

Rory grinned; it seemed like her Rosie made her first friend in Hogwarts. 

“Dearies, it’s already your turn,” she then said. “See you on the other side.” 

Rory exchanged looks with Tom and both held onto Rose. Although their past lives had done this a dozen times before, they still couldn’t help but feel a little apprehensive. Since they were parents of a Muggle-born, they were granted special permission to pass through the barriers this time. 

“Come on,” Tom said, and they dashed directly into the barrier. 

Rory held her breath and closed her eyes, slightly fearing that all she’d feel would be a solid barrier. But then, she gasped as she felt herself go _through_ the barrier, and then widely grinned upon seeing the familiar Hogwarts Express. 

“Whoa,” Scorpius exclaimed, jerking awake from his slumber. His eyes were wide with amusement and wonder before looking up at his mother. “Mum, mum, can’t I be eleven now? I want to go to Hogwarts, too!” 

“Soon, sweetheart,” she said, fondly smiling at her son. “For now, it is Rosie’s turn, yeah?” 

He pouted but didn’t say anything anymore. 

“Well, this is it,” Tom said, wrapping an arm around Rose’s shoulders. “Make us proud, Rosie.” 

“She still would without us telling her, you know,” Rory said with a proud smile. She could feel her eyes burning with tears, prompting Tom to chuckle and pull out Scorpius from her arms. 

“Why don’t you give your Mum a hug?” Tom said as he spoke to Rose. 

Rose, with tears in her eyes, threw her arms around Rory and tightly clung onto her. “I promise to be good, Mum, so that you don’t have to worry too much,” her daughter said. “I think Scorpius already is a handful.” 

Rory chuckled despite her tears and tucked a curl behind Rose’s ear. “Have I ever told you Hermione Granger was the brightest witch of her age?” she asked. 

“Headmaster Potter told me one time,” she replied. “You bet I’ll be one, too.” 

“Oh, don’t work yourself too hard, sweetheart,” Rory said. “Your Mum just wants you to be safe and happy in Hogwarts. Do whatever you love and know that we will always support you.” 

Tears welled in Rose’s eyes and buried her face against Rory’s shirt. “I love you, Mum,” she said. 

“I love you too, Rosie,” Rory said, placing a kiss on top of her curly hair. 

“You too, Dad, I love you,” Rose said, pulling away from her mother to give Tom a hug. “And Scorpius, too!” She kissed her brother’s cheek, who made a face and comically wiped his cheek. 

“Don’t forget to buy me sweets, Rosie!” Scorpius reminded with all the seriousness he could muster. “Harry said there is plenty in Hogwarts.” 

“I will, I will,” Rose assured. 

The train then whistled, reminding people that it was about to leave. 

“Well, that’s your signal,” Tom said. “Don’t forget to write, Rose.” 

“Yes, Dad,” she said, as she gave them last minute hugs. 

“Go now,” Rory said. “Your new friend is waiting for you.” 

Timothy was shyly looking at the small family, and gingerly smiled when Rose gave him a huge beam. 

“Goodbye, family!” she exclaimed. “I’ll see you on Christmas.” Rose then ran off to her new friend and they together helped each other get on the train. 

Rory, Tom, and Scorpius had stayed until the Hogwarts Express was gone. 

“If she didn’t get into Slytherin, she’ll be disowned,” Tom joked, prompting Rory to roll her eyes. 

“Maybe I’ll be in Slytherin, Dad!” Scorpius exclaimed. Rory didn’t have the heart to tell her son and _especially_ Tom that she bloody well knew Scorpius would be Sorted into Hufflepuff once he started going to Hogwarts. 

“This brings back too many memories, yeah?” Rose asked as her hand found his. 

Tom gave her hand a comforting squeeze and smiled. “Yeah,” he said. “I can still remember how Draco Malfoy thought that snotty, bushy-haired, buck-toothed Hermione Granger was cute on their first train ride to Hogwarts. Imagine his horror when he found out she was Muggle-born.” 

“Hermione Granger thought Draco Malfoy was pretty cute too on their first train ride, until he opened his mouth and ruined everything,” Rory said with a huge grin. 

Tom chuckled and drew her closer. “Rose will be all right, you know,” he said. 

“I know,” she said. “After all, she has too much of Rory Blythe in her. She’ll manage.” 

Her husband scowled. “You know she just said that to sway you, right?” he said, followed by a withering glare. “I’m still her favorite.” 

“Sorry, husband of mine, but I think she meant what she said,” Rory replied, sticking out her tongue at him. 

Tom looked affronted and looked at Scorpius. “Scorp, son, who’s your favorite?” he demanded. 

“Mum!” he said without skipping a beat. 

Rory gave a ridiculous triumphant grin while Tom’s scowl darkened. 

“Too bad, I was just thinking of bringing you to your favourite ice cream parlor. But you just missed your chance.” 

"No, no, Dad!” the blond boy quickly corrected. “Dad’s my favorite!” 

Tom rolled his eyes but Rory could see how he was suppressing a grin. “Maybe you, son of mine, will become a Slytherin instead,” he said, followed by a sigh. 

“So ice cream?” Scorpius asked, complete with an adorable grin. 

"Do I have a choice,” Tom asked, smiling widely when Scorpius exclaimed a shout of excitement. “Come now, family. The father is famished.” 

Lacing her fingers through his hand, Rory grinned and shifted Scorpius on her other arm. 

As they walked towards the barrier, Rory shot one last look at the empty platform. A brief memory of a bushy-haired girl, excitedly throwing her arms around Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley, came into mind, making her slightly nostalgic. 

“It does make you wonder, yeah?” Tom said, a knowing glint in his eyes. “What if we are still persons of magic?” 

Rory sighed and nodded her head. “Yeah,” she said. “But, you know, I think I wouldn’t trade this for the world.” She was pertaining to him, to her small family, and the Muggle life she was living. 

Magic was interesting, and it had been everything to Hermione Granger. But Rory Blythe was contented without it, and that was all that really matters. 

* * *

**_Fin_ **

 


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